The Indoor Air Raid

When we got back to school this semester, Ben (GALL VP) was already brewing with new ideas. As you might remember, it was Ben who came up with The Blanket Experiment, and shaped GALL as a platform for social experiments (pranks) in addition to poetry performance and street theatre.

His first idea (or at least the first idea that I thought was feasible/good) was to throw a whole bunch of paper airplanes on an unsuspecting public. I distinctly remember a mischievious smile creeping over my face when he told me about it.

I decided that we should up the ante with this one by creating a conspiracy theory to go along with it. I hoped that we could drum up some anticipation. I hadn't counted on the lack of resources and people to get the job done. Had it been for children in Honduras, maybe we could have gotten the people power.

After two meetings, we had accrued two boxes of 95 paper airplanes (total, not each).

Even though we had a few fliers, handouts and a website in the works, we decided (I conceded) that the conspiracy theory was a bad idea and that we should just launch the fucking things.

So, we decided to table at the Nest on Friday from 11-1 and launch at 12.

Across the lobby from our table was the table for PRISM's Day of Silence. As we threw them down, they began to get irritated with us. I commented to a GALL comrade that I didn't think they liked us very much. She responded, "Well, I don't like their dating service."

Point taken.

After the first air raid the ground was littered with a multicolor carpet of miniature aviatory machines. As we looked over the balcony, we decided that we should probably do it a second time

So we did.

After the second raid, we packed up the planes back into their two boxes, and finished out the hour.

I think, since Chris made it, I should put the flier for the indoor air raids up here:

--Mike Isaacson, GALL President

The Spider Web

The next day, the project was summed up in a bit of graffiti written on one of the signs:

The idea: Heather and I were talking this Saturday about things we could to at the next GALL meeting. I didn’t want to have another meeting at which we benignly plan things. I had thought about maybe going trick-or-bottle-capping, as we are currently working on getting enough plastic bottle caps for the junk art initiative.

Heather said something about putting spiders somewhere. I don’t remember where, but that precipitated me to suggest that we should make a spider web over the fountain with standards to be provided by facilities.

On Sunday, it dawned on me that Trinkle had a pretty awesomely shaped rotunda (a circle) with plenty of points to tie the thing from. At first I had thought that we would tie it from the second floor, but after a painstaking hour of trying to measure a 34’ diameter with a 25’ tape measure by myself, I gave up on the idea, and measured from the first floor.

Eventually, I realized that it would be much easier to just attach it to the eight columns on the ground floor and then raise the web up as high as it would go.

The design: The design was simple enough. We simply tied a 20’ length of twine to each of the eight columns about 2’ high and brought them to the center. From there, we measured a one foot mark from the center point of each rope (which ended up being 2’4¹/₄”). We then measured 9³/₁₆” toward the center and tied that point to the one foot mark on the length of twine next to it.

After doing that for each length of twine, we ended up with eight spokes joining an octagon in the center. From there, we tied the twine attached to the roll to the central octagon and began to create a spiral (spider web) pattern, attaching the free twine to each “spoke” (as bedubbed by Clem) with a small bit of wire.

After we finished with that, Dave painstakingly wrote the word “GALL” with twine in the center of the web.

When he finally finished, Clem and I went down the elevator to get some chairs. We were joined by a third party, to whom I said, “I have no idea what the fuck they’re doing in there.”

He responded, “Is Spiderman 4 coming out or something.” We both chuckled as Clem gave me one of those looks.

We returned with the chairs and I had everyone grab a side and hoist it as high as he could get it. I took the chair and, standing on it, tightened each knot around the tapered column, making sure to get opposite columns at a time so that the tension was even in the center.

After the thing was sufficiently high, we made signs to put on the columns, proclaiming effetely “This is GALL?”

Afterwards, everyone got caught in the spider’s web and was eaten. I managed to get out with most of my limbs

I think we were all pretty proud of our work. Even more so that we got it done in about an hour. It was really amusing to watch people flinch when they first noticed it. However, the next day, we were presented with a challenge:

For more pictures and videos of us doing nothing, check out the photobucket album

--Mike Isaacson, GALL President

The Blanket Experiment

The Set Up: Duct tape a sheet to a high-traffic area of campus walk.

The Hypothesis: Most people will assume that it is something important and walk around it. Eventually, as it begins to show signs of trodding, people will begin to feel more comfortable walking on it.

The Account: After assigning people to take pictures and video in between classes, we assigned Zack to lay down the sheet and duct tape it in the wee hours of the morning.

When I went out at about 8:45, the sheet wasn’t there. My first thought was, “Son of a bitch. Zack got drunk and passed out, didn’t he?” I called him up, and he assured me that, in his drunken stupor, he did manage to tape the sheet down at three in the morning, as planned.

The guy from facilities was parked in his golf cart where the sheet should have been. I went up to him and asked him if there had been a sheet there. He said that there was, but the Athletics Director (what the fuck?) said that ‘it didn’t look right’ and took it up.

I later found out from a woman who worked for facilities that early that morning, when they found the unmarked sheet, they had a two-hour debate regarding what to do with it. Some argued that it was a hazard (I believe that leaves present a greater hazard than a polyester tablecloth duct taped to the ground) while some, remembering the fiasco from Bat Boy last year (apparently, the promo people put bats all over campus the day after Halloween, and were mistaken for leftover decorations) wanted it to stay because students had obviously done it.

The guy from facilities still had the thing balled up on the back of his truck, and offered it to me. I took it and deposited it in my room, and angrily went to Arabic class.

After class, I got the sheet and went to GW to find out where the Athletic Director’s office was. I trudged to Goolrick to give him what’s for, but he wasn’t there. So on my way back, I peeled off the duct tape which had wadded itself around the tablecloth (good thing it was a sturdy cloth).

As I neared Trinkle, I called up Zack. Together at 10:30, we taped the thing back into its rightful place. As we were doing it, a few passers-by asked us what it was for. Our answer was terse and to the point – “Art.”

We stepped back and watched the hilarity ensue. In the interim between classes, there developed an eye-shaped absence of human bodies around the five-by-seven-foot sheet. Groups of four heading for the sheet would split off so as to avoid it.

At 12:58 someone proposed that perhaps a body were hidden beneath the cloth.

Another person asked a friend, “What’s this?” When the friend responded that she didn’t know, he said, “Well, I’ll walk around it just in case.” Others proposed that it was for break dancing or that it was a “free canvas.”

Even some passing trucks swerved to avoid the polyester menace, like this one at 2:56.

Some deeply engrossed in conversation would notice it at the last minute, stop, and turn to avoid the thing.

The Athletic Director did end up calling me, as I had left my number with his secretary. He represented the polar opposite end of the “sheet relic” spectrum, and I laud him for thinking outside the common social mores. He regarded it as trash. It was unmarked and on the ground. Thus, it was trash. As much as I didn’t think he was justified in making judgments on things not regarding Goolrick or sports teams, I must credit him with his rational, concrete value system, even if it did disrupt the experiment for an hour and a half by stepping out of the bound of his jurisdiction in order to enforce them.

When Chris went to take photos at 5, he remarked that he had to turn his flash off because people were changing their behavior when they saw the flash. Sort of a Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle kind of thing, I suppose.

In all, the experiment went well. Eventually, the thing did accrue some footprints and tire tracks in addition to leaves blowing on it.

Toward the end of the day, people got more bold. People began standing in it, dancing on it, jumping on it, jumping over it.

If nothing else, it certainly provided those who understood the experiment copious amounts of entertainment between classes. Perhaps, in a year or so, we’ll do it again on another part of campus.

--Mike Isaacson, GALL President

To view more pictures from the blanket experiment, Click here to see the PhotoBucket album.

The Human Canvas

At tonight's meeting, the executive officers offered themselves up as human paper. Unfortunately, we didn't get many pictures, but it did work to get more people at the meeting.

You guys wrote "Vote Republican" on Ben's arm in addition to coloring in his fading tattoo, while on my back you first scrawled "I ♥ Boys" with a crudely drawn penis, before covering it up with a strange skeletal structure.

--Mike Isaacson, GALL President

Plastic Bottle Caps

We got the go ahead for the Junk Art initiative, so start collecting those plastic bottle caps.

Halloweens

Yes, it's spelled with an 's'. Class council is hosting a Halloween party in Great Hall at 8pm on Saturday, October 27th. GALL will be painting people. We'll also have a fun donation booth set up. Please come.

No seriously, what is GALL?

What is GALL?

GALL stands for Guerilla Art Liberation Lives. Our goal is to rescue the arts from the glass case in which modern society has imprisoned it. We believe that the separation of art from its audience is detrimental to the pursuit of art itself. As a reaction to society, art should also elicit an immediate reaction from society. Our aim is not to create art that will go down in history, but rather art that those who encounter it will not soon forget.

Wait a minute; backtrack. “Guerilla art”? Did Che Guevara learn to paint?

Another part of this club is that nothing is too organized or planned. We engage in impromptu poetry performances, street theatre, pseudo-vandalism, public art projects, social experiments, as well as a slew of other endeavors that we haven’t yet thought of. Our aim is to make art a part of life, rather than just a reflection upon it. We encourage the audience to get involved in the performances (even if unwittingly) by pushing the boundaries of the social norms. Our performances may be as complex as a three minute play, or as simple as a planned dialogue in Seacobeck.

How will anyone know a GALL performance from a random weird conversation?

We require that all members of GALL carry a black marker on them at all times. Performers are required to mark themselves with the word “GALL” clearly on some part of their body. We usually suggest that performers mark their non-dominant hand; however, the mark could be anywhere, and it is up to the audience to figure out what is going on.

So basically you’re a group of pretentious artists who are trying to get a rise out of people?

Not exactly. While most of us do revel in glances of confusion, we also like to work in tandem with other clubs in order to help them spread their message in new and creative ways. We are a non-partisan group, so as long as there are interested members, we encourage other clubs to work with us to build their club’s numbers. In addition to questioning our values and definitions of art, we also aspire to get UMW students more involved with the clubs and events on campus. Through public displays of art, we hope to bring the UMW community closer together.

Before, you mentioned “pseudo-vandalism”. What does that mean?

Pseudo-vandalism involves modifying public areas and structures without damaging them in any way. For instance, putting a toupee on a statue or wedging false limbs in doors. The distinction between vandalism and pseudo-vandalism is that no damage (either long term or short term) is done and minimal clean-up is required. Most pseudo-vandalism is done for the purpose of confusing its audience, though some might be politically or socially relevant.

Does GALL ever warn students of events in advance?

For the most part, no. However, we plan poetry slams and are always looking for interested spoken word poets to perform. As well, we hold workshops about performance art and performance poetry. We encourage all interested students, faculty, staff, and members of the Fredericksburg community to participate in these events. Our goal is not to create an artistic elite, but to encourage every person to find their own means of expression, whether it be through writing, music, dance, photography, painting, sculpture, drama, or any other artistic craft yet unrecognized by the high-walled, dusty bookshelves of academia.

I’m intrigued, but I’m not very artistic. Is there a way that I can get involved?

Absolutely. There is much more that goes into our projects than just the art itself. We are constantly looking for people with fresh ideas, as well as extra hands. The theatrical projects require people with organizational skills as well as actors and directors. Putting together a public art project requires planning with administrators, direction, and a general vision. Even if you don’t have any idea of what you would offer, come out to one of our meetings anyway.